


Give Me Your Word

by the_painless_moustache



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Sub Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painless_moustache/pseuds/the_painless_moustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Derek's favorite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Your Word

**Author's Note:**

> The Sub Stiles I promised you oh-so long ago! I might add onto this, I might not...  
> We shall seeeee...

 This is Derek’s favorite. When Stiles was quiet, eyes wide and maybe a little glassy with unshed tears. Hands tied in front of him in a mock prayer. He’s naked, but Derek isn’t. Won’t be, not for a long time. He loves this, sitting with his legs spread wide and Stiles’ eyes trained on him and _only_ him.

 It’s addicting.

 Derek scratches absently at his neck. He’s not even looking at Stiles. It’s not what this is about. If Stiles had been good, Derek would have him trussed up in bed, would have his tongue buried in his ass and have him whining.

 This was better.

 Stiles heartbeat kicks up a notch when Derek shifts ever so slightly. It’s only been ten minutes, but that’s what makes this a punishment. Stiles _hates_ this. He hates it when Derek won’t pay attention to him, and more so when he’s being good and Derek won’t acknowledge it. But Derek will continue to not acknowledge it until Stiles can sit there for half an hour. Until he understands that when Derek tells him he has to listen, _he has to listen_. When Derek says jump, Stiles’ role is to ask how high.

 He can sense the tension in Stiles without seeing it. He knows his knees probably ache and he knows his wrists are probably stiff. But Stiles can deal with pain. Sometimes he even likes pain. It’s not the pain that’s making his breath shaky; it’s the way he’s on display without being noticed.

 Derek scratches his neck again. “Halfway there.”

 Stiles sighs a little, almost indistinguishable if Derek weren’t a werewolf. The anxiety that had been building itself up steadily dissipates into a clean scent of Stiles waiting patiently. Stiles being good. Stiles watching him like he’s the world, because right now, he is.

 By the time they hit twenty five minutes Stiles is getting anxious again. He does the fidgeting for him, because Stiles deserved the punishment but he didn’t deserve the torture of a roaring mind. He taps his finger in time with the clock on the wall, shifting slightly so his knee brushes across Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles remains tense, but his breathing moves in time with his finger, with the clock.

  _Tap, tap, in, tap, tap, out, tap, tap, in, tap, tap, out…_

 The moment the clock hits thirty minutes Derek turns the TV off and turns all of his focus onto his Sub. His lip quivers around the silk in his mouth, but he doesn’t speak. Derek nods and unties the gag. He waits.

 “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry for disobeying, sir.” Stiles says obediently. “I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.”

 Derek tips his chin up. Stiles eyes soften with the contact. “You’re forgiven. You did very good today, Stiles. You took your punishment very well.”

 “Thank you, sir.”

 “Do you want to continue or are you done today?”

 “I’d like to continue, sir.”

 “Okay.” Derek drops his chin and stands. Stiles lifts his head to follow him anyway, but when Derek walks away from his sight he trains his eyes on the couch. Derek runs his fingers through his hair, praising him for remaining where he was told. “Can you stand?”

 Stiles hesitates, either not wanting to or not sure. Derek can only punish him for one of those, so he gives him a second chance. “Answer me.”

 “I don’t know, sir.” Stiles answers quickly. “My legs hurt. But I can try.”

 “That’s okay, stay down.” Derek tugs on his hair gently. “Answer me right away next time.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “What do you need, Stiles?” Derek wonders, dragging his nails along the back of his neck. Stiles shivers.

 “Something to drink?” Stiles asks hopefully, quickly adding “Sir.”

 “Okay. Try to stand while I get it.”

“Yes, sir.”

 Derek is acutely trained on everything Stiles does even when he’s getting the water. He can hear his joints popping when he stands and the small noise of discomfort he makes. When he turns around, though, Stiles is standing obediently, turned towards Derek but eyes trained on his feet. Derek walks over and tips his head up, offering him the water. Stiles drinks greedily, and Derek watches his Adam’s apple bob with the movements of his throat.

 He likes this almost as much as he likes everything else. He likes taking care of Stiles, giving him what he needs. It appeals to him as a human, but it makes his wolf _roll_ inside him with glee. _Providing for mate_ , it howls. Stiles pulls away when he’s done and Derek watches him lick his lips. It’s an innocent enough gesture, but it kills him every time.

 “Sir?” Stiles speaks softly, tentatively.

 Derek sets the glass down. “Yes, Stiles?”

 “Can I…can I ride your cock tonight?”

 Derek tries not to smile, only because Stiles will see it as a sign of amusement. They’d worked very hard on Stiles asking for what he wants in and out of the bedroom. He doesn’t want to ruin the progress. “If that’s what you want, but you have to ask nicely.”

 Stiles chews on his lip. “Sir, please let me ride your cock today. I want it. A lot.”

 Derek does smile then, and Stiles _does_ blush. But he drags his thumb across the red on his cheeks. “You’re so good for me.” he praises. Stiles blushes more, but he preens a little, too. “You took your punishment so well today, and you asked so prettily to ride me.”

 “Thank you, sir.”

 “Let’s get you upstairs, then.” Derek suggests, purring a little. Stiles blushes a little more, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. It’s a familiar look, a look Stiles gets when he thinks he’s asked too much. “What?”

 “Can I…ride you here?”

 Derek raises his eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”

 He nods.

 Derek considers. Or, at least, he pretends to consider. He’d only very rarely deny Stiles something he wants. After a few seconds he nods. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

 “I am.” Stiles agrees quickly, then winces. “I mean, yes, sir.”

 Derek grins and leans forward to kiss him. Stiles tried so hard to be perfect for him, and it was a rare occasion that Derek actually had to punish him. Stiles relaxes beneath him when he realizes his slip up was being excused. “How do you want this, baby?” Derek whispers against his mouth.

 “I want you dressed.” Stiles says carefully. “If that’s okay. Sir.”

 “Anything you want.” Derek promises. “You were so good during your punishment today. Took it so well.”

 Stiles blushes prettily. “Can I suck you, too? Sir?”

 Derek hums, traces his bottom lip. “Yeah. You can.”

 Stiles lights up. Derek can’t help but smile as he sits, undoes his jeans and waits. Stiles drops to his knees quickly, waiting hungrily. Derek pulls himself out and gives a few cursory strokes, but he’s been half hard since Stiles stripped down for punishment. Stiles leans forward quickly, tongue coming out to catch the crown when Derek tugs his foreskin down.

 Derek moves his hand away and Stiles immediately picks up the slack, suckling at tip adoringly. Derek cards his fingers through his hair and he sinks down halfway, tongue dragging beautifully when he bobs back up. His eyes flutter shut next time he takes him down and Derek groans. He’s not sure who enjoys this more, him or Stiles. The utter adoration Stiles gives to his cock is unparalleled, but the way Derek can watch—at the right angle, anyway—how hard Stiles gets when he’s sucking Derek off…that’s better. That’s everything.

 Stiles moans around him pulls off to breathe deep and then swallows Derek _completely_. It’s not something he does often—Derek’s _large_ —but when he does he pulls off looking so proud and pleased and fucked out. Derek clenches his hands in his hair, holds him a few seconds more than usual and then lets him up. Stiles doesn’t pull off completely, instead shallowly bobbing until Derek tugs him off. “Breathe, Stiles.”

 Stiles makes a small noise, needy but resigned. Derek’s favorite noise. Derek tightens his hand in his hair. Stiles quiets quickly. Derek uses his free hand to smear Stiles spit across his dick, watching Stiles’ eyes follow the movement hungrily. “Do you want this, Stiles? In your pretty, slutty mouth?”

 Stiles looks up to him and nods.

 “Ask for it.”

 “Please, sir.” Stiles asks sweetly. “Please, please let me have your cock.”

 “Where, Stiles?”

 “In my pretty, slutty mouth.” Stiles whimpers.

 Derek growls and tugs on his hair. Stiles opens his mouth obediently and Derek fills it. Stiles’ eyes shut again, pleasure rippling across him and filling Derek’s nose. He’s almost entirely hard, and he hasn’t even been touched. Derek moans, buries Stiles head in his crotch and _nearly_ comes when Stiles gags around him.

 He drags him off and looks at Stiles’ red, glassy eyes. At the string of spit still hanging between his mouth and Derek’s erection. His face is flushed and his mouth is already swelling. “Oh, baby.” Derek breathes. “You look so good like this.”

 “Let me ride you, sir. Please.”

 “You want to do it like this? Fuck you with nothing but spit?” Stiles keens, so Derek’s almost positive he’s on board with the idea. But he needs to hear it. Needs to know. “Stiles, tell me.”

 “I want you to fuck me with your spit, sir.” Stiles pants. “Need you to. Please, _please_.”

 Derek pulls him up and settles him over his lap. Stiles shivers, shifting so he’s presenting his ass, waiting. Derek palms it but doesn’t spread him yet. “What’s your word, Stiles?” Stiles sighs. He hates this, Derek knows he does. Out of everything, this is what pulls Stiles out of his headspace most. But Derek needs to remind him he _does_ have control. “I won’t ask you again.”

 Stiles’ face clears a little with the order. “ _Przestać_.” he says clearly.

 Derek nods and takes a hold of his throat. “Good boy.”

 “Please, sir.” Stiles begs. “I need you. I need this.”

 “Okay. Good, good boy, Stiles. I’m so proud of you.”

 Stiles bites his lip. “Will you fuck me, sir?”

 “Of course.” Derek offers his fingers and Stiles sucks on them with as much relish as he does Derek’s cock. It’s beautiful, and Derek has a better range of motion like this. Can turn his fingers and press onto his tongue. He waits until Stiles is drooling spit and then works a finger directly into his ass. Stiles makes the most beautiful noise, bites his lip hard enough it turns white and squeezes his eyes shut. “Baby boy, look at you.” Derek breathes. “Love you like this.”

 Stiles’ fingers curl into his shirt. “Der—sir. _Sir_ , I need more.”

 Derek pulls his fingers out and shoves them into Stiles’ mouth. “Careful, Stiles.” he warns. “Don’t slip up or I’ll have to punish you. I don’t want to do that.”

 Stiles nods, pulling off with a slick pop. Derek fits both fingers against his rim and with a little wiggling gets them inside. Stiles pulls hard enough on his shirt that Derek is forced to sit up. He bites Stiles’ jaw as retaliation.

 “ _Nng—sir!_ ” he gasps.

 “Word.” Derek demands.

 “Fu— _przestać_.” Stiles grinds out.

 “Eyes on me, Stiles.” Stiles opens his eyes, focuses on Derek. It takes enough effort to pull out of him without hurting him that Derek grabs his chin. “Stiles, baby, we’ve gotta lube you up. You’re too tight.”

 Stiles pouts, but he nods. Someday soon, Derek promises himself he’ll make Stiles plug himself so they can spit-fuck. So he’s spread enough for it. He hates when he can’t give Stiles what he wants, but he knows he could seriously hurt him. He’ll do what’s best for Stiles even if it means disappointing him.

 Derek kisses him to make up for it, though, shifts just enough to get the lube he’d put on the table before they’d started. Because he’s a forward thinker. He slickers up two fingers and presses them directly into Stiles, enough to stretch him. Stiles let’s his head roll back, exposing his neck. Derek takes the invitation and bites on an exposed tendon.

 He avoids Stiles prostate—much to his Sub’s frustration—just to watch him squirm a little. He grins when Stiles whines, and then leans forward and nips at his nose. “Behave, Stiles. Or I’ll stop now.”

 “I’ll be good, sir, I promise.” Stiles whispers, rocking back on his fingers. Derek makes a pleased hum and pulls out, lubing up his fingers again. Stiles licks his lips in anticipation, and Derek leans forward to tug on his bottom lip. Stiles turns it into a hungry kiss. Derek melts into it, almost forgets to press his fingers in. Almost.

 When he does, Stiles whimpers. Derek smiles against his mouth and stretches him wide with three fingers, until Stiles is on the verge of tears. He considers adding another finger just to see him squirm but he doesn’t. He pulls free and lubes himself up, pulling Stiles tight against him. “Make as much noise as you need, baby, but you’re coming untouched.”

 Stiles nods, eyes hooded and mouth hanging open. He slips onto Derek’s cock like he was made to. Sometimes, Derek is sure he was. He rocks his hips slowly, Derek sitting back to watch because he knows that’s what Stiles needs. Because he likes to see it, too. Even though Stiles was his Sub, Derek liked when he took control like this. Because in his mind, Stiles had the most control. Stiles was in charge of what he needed. All he had to do was ask. And yes, some days Derek took what he needed, but more often than not…

 His entire life revolved around a twenty year old boy.

 Stiles finally hits the right spot, hands fisting and mouth falling open wider. “ _Oh_ , _fuck_.”

 Derek scrapes his nails down his back. “Gorgeous.” he purrs. “So gorgeous, Stiles.”

 Stiles moans, presses back hard and comes in short spurts across Derek’s shirt. Derek surges forward and kisses him, grabs his cock and squeezes all the come he can from him. Stiles goes a little lax but keeps working his hips. Derek shudders and Stiles turns to his ear. “Sir, please. I need you to fill me up, need you to make me wet with your come. Please, sir, I’ve been good, haven’t I? I want to be good. I want to be _yours_.”

 Derek groans and pulls Stiles down hard onto his cock, wringing an absolutely broken noise from him. Derek turns and bites into his neck, hard enough to bruise but not to break skin. Stiles fingers spasm on his shirt while Derek fills him, and for a long time they just hold each other like that. Then Stiles nibbles his earlobe, and Derek pinches his hip.

 “Thank you, sir.” Stiles purrs, nuzzling into his neck. Derek and his wolf both preen at how fucked out his sounds, how loose he feels. Derek smoothes his hands across Stiles ribs, one going up into his hair and turning his face back forward.

 “Sleepy?” Derek wonders. He nods. “Let’s get you untied, baby. Take you upstairs for a bath and go to bed.”

 Stiles nods again, and Derek’s hands automatically find his wrists. Stiles lays his head on his shoulder, let’s Derek free his hands and then carry him upstairs. Derek fills the tub and spends their time waiting undressing himself and then kissing Stiles’ wrists. They’re red, but not burnt or cut. Maybe a tiny bit bruised. “Do I need to start tying you looser?” Derek asks.

 “No.” Stiles responds sleepily. “I like it.”

 “Okay. You tell me if I do.”

 “Mmkay.”

 He slides Stiles into the bath first, climbing in behind him. Stiles immediately settles back onto his chest, fingers finding his and forcing Derek’s arms around him. Not that Derek really minds, or minds at all. He kisses Stiles head. “You were so good today.”

 Stiles hums happily, sinking further into the water. “You weren’t bad, either.”

 Derek bites the top of his ear.

 They sit in there for a long time before Derek gets the energy to wash either of them. By the time they’re actually clean Stiles is nearly asleep, and when he hits the pillow Derek only has enough time to kiss him before he’s out like a light.

**Author's Note:**

> My legendary [tumblr](http://thepainlessmoustache.tumblr.com/)


End file.
